Bottles Breaking
by Fire The Canon
Summary: They said she was miserable, but she didn't really see it. She thought she loved him, and if she didn't look after him, who would. WARNING: May trigger.


_**Written for Danie's Song Prompt Challenge (Stella by All Time Low)**_

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**Bottles Breaking**

It was well after midnight when she arrived home to their tiny, little flat. The moon was high in the sky and the stars were bright. She hadn't had to witness anything horrific at the hospital tonight – only a few minor bumps and bruises that were reported. The day had put her into a good mood, and as she opened the door, she felt as if nothing could break it.

She'd been living with him for almost a year now, and for the first few months everything had been perfect. She hadn't known who he was to begin with, nor had he with her, but it had soon come out. He was frightened of her magical abilities – as he had been frightened of his cousin's – and when she'd told him, he'd run away.

"I love you," he had said, and his eyes had proven it. He really _did_ love her, but he was afraid. "But we can't do this."

"No… no, don't do this!" She had chased him through the door of the house that had belonged to his parents, and all the way down the street, but he refused to listen.

"No, get away from me! This isn't right!"

It wasn't until three months later that he came knocking on her doorstep, a look of remorse in his eyes, telling her he was sorry. He had been frightened, but after those months away from her, he realised it didn't matter. He could live with her magic… After all, he'd lived with it his whole life.

Now, though, things were different. After six months of living happily together, he took to the bottle. It began as a one-off thing. A night here and there, where he would go out drinking with his friends. He would come home drunk, but it was okay, because it was only about once a month.

Then it was every weekend, then twice a week, until eventually, he brought the drink to him. Most nights – and tonight was no exception – he wouldn't even make it to bed, but she would find him snoring with his head on the table (sometimes lying on the floor) and the bottles of beer spread out before him.

The sight of him made her feel sick, but some part of her kept coming home (the part that loved him, she supposed).

His snoring continued, even as she cleared the bottles and the mess. She tried not to use magic in front of him, but it was late, and he was oblivious anyway. Once the place looked tidy, she heaved him into a sitting position, and he woke, startled.

"Whose there?" he slurred, looking around.

"Just me," she replied calmly. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

He shook her off. "Can get myself to bed," he grumbled, getting slowly to his wobbly feet. She followed him to the bedroom, and he was asleep again before she'd even climbed in beside him.

A few hours later he woke (as he usually did) and wanted to make love to her. She complied, because… well… she liked being with him. His breath reeked of alcohol, but he was always gentle with her (he never hurt her in any way, if one wanted to identify a good quality in him), he was just hardly sober these days.

In the morning – when it was time for her to crawl out of bed and start the new day – he was snoring. She nudged him in the hope that me might wake, but he merely grunted, rolled over and began snoring again.

She sighed.

"Well, goodbye," she said just as she was ready to leave. "I'll see you tonight."

His only reply was a very loud snore.

His cousin would sometimes come over to check on him (more for her sake than his) but he'd always report back with a shake of his head and a look of pity.

"It's not too late to get out," he said that morning. "It's never too late. You can protect yourself." He indicated to her pocket where her wand was.

But protecting herself wasn't the issue, it was the fact that – despite everything – she still loved him and she didn't _want_ to get out. She was unhappy, but who would look after him if she wasn't there?

He seemed to read her expression. "He'll be fine," he promised her. "Just worry about yourself. I'll worry about him."

Although she pondered on this offer she still returned home that evening, and the one after that, as well as the next three weeks. Every day she would find him in the same state – drunk and asleep; every day she would escort him to bed.

"Get out." His cousin was still insistent (determined, actually) for her to get out of there.

"But –"

"No! Ginny is at your house now packing your bags. You're miserable, Cho. We can all see it except for you. You're getting out, and there's no questions asked."

She didn't ask any questions, but merely nodded. Maybe it was about time she left (even if somewhere inside of her regretted such a decision being made for her).

She wasn't sure where'd she go after this. Her life for the past few years had been all about him. And now (if) she was free, what was she to do?

"Enjoy your freedom." She didn't realise someone had spoken until she found Harry Potter – _his_ cousin – grinning at her.

"Thank you."

He placed a hand on her shoulder and looked her square in the eye. "You deserve it, Cho," he said. "You've put up with it for far too long."

A tear trickled down her face, which she tried to blink away. It didn't – and probably never would – feel like she'd had to _put up_ with it. She'd willingly cared for him – helped him – and now everything felt strange to her.

"It'll take some time," Harry assured her. "But you'll get there."

"Thank you," she said again, and she meant it.

Though, she wasn't entirely sure why.

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_**This song kind of just inspired DudleyCho... but I actually really like them so I didn't want to write an abusive relationship but it just happened. I hope you liked reading this, though, and your thoughts would be much appreciated.  
**_


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